Trinkets
by Genkai Lady
Summary: Harry's belongings are going missing. Someone's taking them, but who? An amusing semi-romantic slash fic.
1. Hidden Fascination

Chapter 1  
  
Dedicated to Sarah "Trephinia Cealyn" McKinney, one of the best Draco/Harry drama writers EVER!!! Her fic Physical is beyond goodness, so read it! She has a sequel out for it now (it's still in progress) called Closer. READ IT!  
  
Disclaimer: I am but a poor girl in love with slash. Sue me not. I own little but the plot (*cough*).  
  
Little by little, Harry had noticed he was getting more and more forgetful. He frantically searched through his drawers, scouring his room for any signs.  
  
"Ron, have you seen my other glove? I've about lost it!"  
  
"Awww Harry..." groaned Ron. "That's the third bloody pair this month! What did you DO to deserve such a bad short term memory?!"  
  
"I'm positive they were in my hands at the Greenhouse. And then..."  
  
"Never mind Harry, I'll have mum knit you another pair."  
  
"No really, where are they going to?"  
  
"Well, they can't just walk off, can they?"  
  
"You never know..." mused Harry as he observed McGonagall and Dumbledore batting their eyes at each other, which convinced Harry to believe anything was possible at Hogwarts.  
  
Meanwhile...  
  
The boots of a cold and calculating person tapped lightly on the hard stone floor. Fingers lightly brushed small bobbles and objects on either side of them as the person walked down the middle of filled shelves. A pale and delicate hand possessively stroked a pair of gloves, and practically snaked to the other end of the room, continuously petting the glove.  
  
~~~  
  
Harry frantically searched for his quill. Not only had it been a gift from Hermione, but it also spurted irreversible purple ink all over if someone ever tried to steal it. Ever since Hermione's SPEW days, he's always been reluctant to rub her temper the wrong way and promised himself he'd look all over the common room for it once Potions was over. Galloping into the classroom, he noticed Snape had his back turned to the class as he languidly flipped through a thick black book of charms. Draco had sat in the very front of the class on the far left, and Harry didn't get a glimpse of his loathed enemy before sliding into his seat in back with Ron.  
  
"Did you see his face?" Ron whispered excitedly, poking Harry in the ribs. "It was bloody brilliant! He had purp-"  
  
"I will not tolerate if you want to talk to your little friends during class, Weasly. Perhaps you would remember more soundly if you had to scrub the dungeon after today's lesson, hm?" drawled Snape in his infamous hushed voice. Ron groaned and buried his face in his arms, and the lesson stretched on for another hour.  
  
~~~  
  
Walking through the unwelcoming atmosphere of the dank common room, a hurried figure swathed in black made way towards their dormitory. A tiny hand fitted into a black glove lightly skated across the railing on the way up, and the other hand was hidden as it clutched the cloak closer. The snakelike furniture was welcoming, while that afternoons escape had not been. Purple pen was not something one could easily be rid of, and asking for help had been a thousand more times humiliating. And surely Potter was bound to recognize the pen, but only in his wildest dreams could Potter know why it had been taken. A few harsh steps into the room, the figure let the cloak slide down and smiled as thoughts of reviewing the "collection" danced in their head.  
  
~~~  
  
"Ginny? Have you seen my glasses?" asked Harry, frantically patting up and down his shirt pocket.  
  
"You're wearing them Harry."  
  
"Ah. Capital." The Boy Who Lived had lately been turning out to be The Boy Who Lost His Mind, finally forcing Harry to a near breaking point. Hermione had been kind enough to ask Flitwick for a Finding Charm, but there was a slight mishap with it, ending up with Neville asleep in Madam Pomfrey's office for more than three days. Harry could almost feel his hair turning grey as he looked for his pen one last time in his bag. A slithering tingling sensation crawled up Harry's back. Someone was watching him. Turning around, he saw no one but Crabbe and Goyle trudging through the mud on the way in from the greenhouse. Harry bit his lip, and bent down trying to find a spare parchment tie. He rummaged and rummaged, but became distracted when Snape strode into the Great Hall on the heels of the two blockheaded gits. As Harry looked closer, he saw a slight movement that was detached from Crabbe and Goyle. Snape bent down and whispered something, nodded curtly, and strode back out. Gathering up his stuff, Harry began to get the feeling something was amiss and hurried out of the Great Hall after Snape. 


	2. Confusing Discovery

Chapter 2  
  
For those of you who missed my message last time, read Trephinia Cealyn's fics. Physical and Closer are her two most popular ones, but she has more! I hope you all like this fic, since I'm kinda tired here while writing the second chapter. I think I have to catch up on some sleep. Anyway, tell me what you think! I was going for a short and sweet one shot, but I ended up doing it in chapters. And I couldn't help making Harry a bit of a dunce- in all the books he always believed the first crazy story anyone told him, so I had to poke fun of his naivety a little. I'm going to make a one-shot version of this after all. I think I could do a slightly better job with it, and make the story go in a more geared direction (this version has become rather confusing). I'll keep updating this one though, fer shizzle!  
  
Disclaimer: Getting the theme song stuck in my head is the closest I'll ever come to owning Harry Potter.  
  
"You need an extra pair of WHAT???" yelled Ron at five AM.  
  
"Not so loud!" hissed Harry. It was freezing outside, and all he had was his blanket wrapped around him. "I got so excited at the Quidditch game last night that I went to bed in my robes and left my other clothes and underwear in the robe room. And well, when I went back to get it..."  
  
"Harry, either you need to stop smoking that bloody Gillyweed or you have some sort of bloody undercover fangirl club," muttered Ron as he tossed Harry a tattered pair of boxers.  
  
"Nice teddy bear boxers Harry," mumbled Dean as he climbed out of bed. Ron's ears went red as he hastily stuffed food in Pig's mouth.  
  
Meeting up with Hermione, Harry recounted his wild goose chase after Snape while shoving pumpkin juice and biscuits down his throat. Nothing good had come of it, and Snape had done nothing suspicious whatsoever. However, the figure in the black cloak hiding behind Crabbe and Goyle had him worried. His gaze blandly swept across the Great Hall, and his eyes idly flicked to the Slytherin table. Pansy Parkinson had her eyes fixed on him. She looked rather peaked, and was lethally crunching up her pink gel quill in her tightened fists. She leaned over to talk to one of her friends, and Harry quickly looked around to see if Hermione had noticed. An idea was forming in Harry's mind. He pulled Hermione to the side of the hall before he ran off to Divination.  
  
"Malfoy and Pansy are chums, aren't they? And hadn't I seen someone with Crabbe and Goyle? It must have been Pansy! They've got to be up to something..." Harry trailed off. Suddenly, there was an awkward silence.  
  
"Harry..." said Hermione slowly. "Do you think Pansy likes you?"  
  
"I hope not."  
  
"Harry..."  
  
"Bloody hell- It makes sense!" breathed Harry in a rush of terror. "I mean, she looked angry, so she could have been angry I hadn't noticed she was the one taking my stuff!" Hermione looked intent on Harry's face while he was talking, but he figured that was because Ron was posing on the staircases with his robes open directly behind Harry. Someone has to take me seriously, sighed Harry. A Slytherin of all people. Cho had started a "We Miss Cedric" club, so there wasn't a snowball's chance in hell with her. He sighed again, and was about to continue onto class when an icy voice stopped him in his tracks.  
  
"All your fame getting to you, Potter?" Malfoy. Great. The LAST person he wanted to see.  
  
"What do you want, Malfoy," countered Harry warily. He was not in the mood, and Ron's boxers were beginning to chafe.  
  
"I just wanted to see how my favorite little star-boy was doing," snapped Malfoy as he slid around Harry. Letting the "my" part slide, Harry was pissed enough. Snatching Malfoy's arm, he forced him to spin around. Harry's mouth opened in a silent "o." Purple blotches spattered across Draco's face. Draco? Harry mentally questioned himself, snapping him out of his stunned state. Since when were they on first name terms?  
  
"You! You were the one-" seethed Harry. It had been Malfoy stealing his things. Was he sore about Pansy liking him?  
  
"Stuff it Potter," flung Malfoy back at Harry as he wrenched himself from Harry grasp. Drac-Malfoy had looked embarrassed. But it wasn't like before. As he walked away huffily, a small peach envelope fell out of his robe pocket. In menacing lacy writing, the contents inside read-  
  
"I know what's going on. I've seen your collection. If things keep disappearing, in two weeks meet me behind behind the Three Broomsticks at Hogsmeade. Otherwise Lucius is NOT going to be happy about this, my darling little love nugget."  
  
Harry's mind reeled in confusion. Lucius had been mentioned. That meant that Voldemort was involved. After a quick stop to send a note to Sirius in the owlry, Harry ran to tell Hermione and Ron the recent events. He found them passionately snogging in the back section of the library, one of the only times Ron could be found there on his own free will.  
  
"Listen, you two! Snape is getting in touch with all the Death Eaters, who are stealing my things because Voldemort is commanding them to! We have to go tell Dumbledore!" Ron grimaced.  
  
"Harry, you bloody twit. Slow down." Harry pulled out the note, and conspired with his two fellow Gryffindors.  
  
The next two weeks floated by for Harry. More of his things began to go missing, but he ignored it and concentrated on his studies. In the mornings he routinely wore Ron's undergarments on his early walk before breakfast in exchange for tips on making up with Hermione, cheerfully locked his Firebolt away in Dumbledore's office after promising McGonagall to do extra credit, traded chocolate frogs for quills with Neville, and all in all created a very nice system of bartering. Which was making a certain someone very very angry. Harry's room was continually raided, with his money bag being no exception.  
  
"That's the thing!" Harry said in confusion to Ron. "The person left the money but kept the bag! What is going on here?"  
  
Lunch in the Great Hall was becoming more and more interesting, with Snape striding in and out constantly and rumors flying everywhere about Malfoy's involvement with some "interesting" rumors. Harry smiled and started to let it all go, concentrating instead on his studies. Practice exams were looming over the students, and when relaxing out in the sunshine and watching the giant squid eating random first years Harry didn't want to think about anything at all. Meanwhile...  
  
~~~  
  
Sliding past the torturing statues aligning the chamber, the familiar black glove caressed a small black bag. Dust was beginning to collect on the rims of the shelves, and the weather was growing too warm to attempt at furious dusting. The scowls of the person pacing through the lines and rows stopped short and threw a small glass ornament at the wall. It shattered, and the person felt a terrible twitching feeling in their heart. "He" had had that ornament. It was "his." And now it had been broken. Stepping heartlessly on the shattered pieces, the person turned on their heel and slammed the door shut. The collection would have to wait. People were starting to interfere, and delicate rich people don't like it when that happens... 


	3. Happy Admittance

Chapter 3  
  
This is the final (and rather short) chapter of this fic! I have to say, this is the fastest I've ever written a fic before! It's all thanks to my INGENIOUS inspiration Sarah "Trephinia Cealyn" McKinney. I've gotten 7 reviews so far- thank you! The secret admirer will be revealed in this chapter, and for all of you "hoping" it was Ginny or Snape... well... you'll see soon. There was a fair bit of warning- black clothing, snakelike tendencies, delicate, rich, ink on SOMEONE'S face, the story being labeled a SLASH fic, etc.- so don't be horrified into a shocked stupor when you find out who it truly is. Keep reading! Check out my other fics too- there are two more awesome Harry Potter ones. I'm writing this to "Jessie James" by Cher while sitting in the complete dark putting off my 3 page AP World History research paper outline after hardly any sleep while my mom is watching "Eric the Viking" on full volume, so forgive me if this is a bit odd. Did I mention adjectives are my favorite part of the English language?  
  
Disclaimer: Wild horses couldn't drag the copyright to me.  
  
Harry sat with his head in his hands. So far, three foggy weeks had gone by with a large quantity of his things missing, and yet not a single person showed up at the Three Broomsticks on the designated day after two weeks. Drac-Malfoy must have discovered his letter was missing and rescheduled, thought Harry glumly. He and Hermione had scoured the text books looking for a charm that could continuously make things disappear, but they had no luck. That night Hermione was angry at Ron and had decided to pull an all nighter reading in the darker corner of the common room while pouring over her homework, so Harry wanted to get away from the tense and studious atmosphere.  
  
He found himself wandering around the astronomy tower, staring up at the stars. The professor was sick in bed, and the substitute was off on an errand. No one was in sight, and Harry lowered his guard to gaze in peace. The golden banners streaking through the sky convinced Harry that it was the perfect night for the centaurs to be out and about, staring in wonder and appreciation at the glowing celestial manifestations. Hermione's vocabulary has been rubbing off on me, chuckled Harry almost tiredly. Just as he was about to rest his head on the railing, he heard a small rustling sound behind him. Reaching for his wand, Harry found himself facing Draco Malfoy. They were roughly ten feet apart, both turned slightly while grabbing their wands under their billowing black cloaks.  
  
~~~  
  
Impatience is the death of us all, hissed the person angrily to themselves as they stalked up the staircase. Perfectly polished silver clasps glistened in the pooling moonlight, while the sinister footsteps echoed through the deserted area. Slicing through the darkness, the person swiveled up one stairway after another, until arriving at the appointed destination. A destination where there was to be no other person around, giving the luxurious feeling of being alone. How beastly, cursed the person out loud as they saw the railing was occupied. The collection had been making them grow sad; recognizing that it was merely a pointless collection of things that would never bring them closer to... to... him was a hard thing to accept, especially for this person. Sighing, the black gloved figure turned to leave when last small piece of shattered glass attached to their boot made a crunching sound.  
  
~~~  
  
"Harry Potter."  
  
"Draco Malfoy."  
  
Their conversation was going nowhere. It felt like time had stopped, and an eerie silence blanketed the tower. Draco stepped forward and removed his hands from his robe and took a step forward.  
  
"What are you doing here, Potter?" questioned Malfoy, with a smirk playing across his lips.  
  
"Same to you, Malfoy!" snapped Harry back. "Have you come across any more QUILLS of mine lately?" Instead of losing his cool, Malfoy simply took another step forward.  
  
"I was hoping you could look past that, Potter." stated Malfoy. Taking a third step forward, Malfoy moved out onto the railing. "And I have a little gift for you- I was hoping you would be a bit more gracious." Malfoy pulled out a beautiful white rose that shone almost silver. He handed it gracefully to Harry, and smiled. "In return for what I stole." explained Malfoy. To Harry, Malfoy looked more different then than he'd ever seen him. He was attractive now, with his stunning sleek robes and shimmering hair, eyes gleaming with boyish imp ideas dancing expressively over his face making his cheeks glow. His bitter rival no longer wanted hatred, he wanted something else. He was also only an inch taller than Harry now. Malfoy looked as though he was going to lean closer to Harry, but he instead twirled around and shortly told Harry to do what he wished with his gift.  
  
~~~  
  
For the next four days, Harry kept the rose under his bed so Ron and the others wouldn't find it. He watched Draco, yes- Draco, during the meals in the Great Hall and walking to his classes. Draco's elegant air never faltered once, but on occasion he met Harry's eyes and turned away when Harry quickly averted his gaze. I was driving him crazy- he was going to find out what was going on once and for all. Harry asked a few questions here and there, and eventually found Draco's favorite flower color to be pale yellow. Ordering a pale rose from the Hogsmeade flower shop, he closed his eyes, held his breathe, wrapped his "gift", and mailed it to the person residing on the other side of the castle Harry was in.  
  
Breakfast had never been so terrifying. The next morning Harry couldn't swallow a single bite of his food, and ignored Hermione's pesky attempts at prodding treacle down his throat. Owl delivery would be at any moment, and he wasn't sure if he was dying to see Draco's reaction, or would rather die than see Draco's reaction. Finally, in one slow torturous moment, Draco's flashy black owl dropped him an oddly wrapped package. Harry had been at a loss as what to write for the note, so he'd simply not included one. Draco took his time unwrapping the package, and when the rose dropped into his hands, he did something almost unpreceded (other than the time Granitus Malfoy had gotten drunk at a wizarding carnival crawling with Veela two hundred years ago); Draco smiled. A warm and encasing smile. It spread from the rigid corners of his silky mouth to the dazzling silver in his eyes. He placed the rose back in the box, and began to write Harry a note on a napkin. With a quick swish of his wrist, a folded napkin appeared in front of Harry. He smiled as he read the last line, and vowed to keep his newly found happiness a secret.  
  
Harry,  
  
It looks like I stole your heart after all.  
  
-Draco 


End file.
